#EnglishWriters Modern
And who has seen the moon, who has… Her rise from out the chamber of t… Flushed and grand and naked, as fr… Of finished bridegroom, seen her r… Confession of delight upon the wav…
How many times, like lotus lilies… Upon the surface of a river, there Have risen floating on my blood th… Soft glimmers of my hope escaped f… So I am clothed all over with the…
A big bud of moon hangs out of the… Star—spiders spinning their thread Hang high suspended, withouten res… Watching us overhead. Come then under the trees, where t…
Look at them standing there in aut… The pale—faces, As if it could have any effect any… Pale—face authority, Caryatids,
If you are a man, and believe in t… then say to yourself: we will ceas… about property and money and mecha… and open our consciousness to the… that we are now cut off from.
The stars that open and shut Fall on my shallow breast Like stars on a pool. The soft wind, blowing cool Laps little crest after crest
The quick sparks on the gorse bush… Little jets of sunlight—texture im… Above them, exultant, the peewits… They are lords of the desolate was… Rabbits, handfuls of brown earth,…
The quick sparks on the gorse—bush… Little jets of sunlight texture im… Above them, exultant, the peewits… They have triumphed again o’er the… Rabbits, handfuls of brown earth,…
Since I lost you, my darling, the… And I am of it, the small sharp s… The white moon going among them li… And the sound of her gently rustli… And I am willing to come to you n…
When she rises in the morning I linger to watch her; She spreads the bath—cloth underne… And the sunbeams catch her Glistening white on the shoulders,
Her tawny eyes are onyx of thought… Hardened they are like gems in anc… Yea, and her mouth’s prudent and c… Means even less than her many word… Though her kiss betrays me also th…
Thought, I love thought. But not the juggling and twisting… I despise that self—important game… Thought is the welling up of unkno… Thought is the testing of statemen…
At evening, sitting on this terrac… When the sun from the west, beyond… Departs, and the world is taken by… When the tired flower of Florence… Brown hills surrounding...
The train in running across the we… So even, it beats like silence, an… Embrace of darkness lie around, an… And littered lettering of leaves a… The open book of landscape no more…
DARKNESS comes out of the eart… And swallows dip into the pallor o… From the hay comes the clamour of… Wanes the old palimpsest. The night-stock oozes scent,
